Sick
by New DCD
Summary: Miles Edgeworth must come to terms with the fact that he's a very, very sick man.  Set two years before Apollo Justice.


Miles Edgeworth felt like a sick man.

Yes, "sick" was the best word to describe him. The perpetually serious, excessively professional prosecutor poured yet another glass of grape juice from the bottle he held aloft in his hand before setting it down on the desk in his office, taking but a split second to bring the transparent container to his lips and downing its contents in one go. He was having a hard time deciding whether he was lucky or unlucky for the lack of case to prosecute at the moment. Perhaps preparing for a trial would help him take his mind off the current preoccupations that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about...or perhaps his mental faculties would result impaired because of these, and he would perform nowhere near the best of his ability.

Absentmindedly, he filled the glass again, gazing into the liquid and getting lost in its deep violet color. For some reason, it made his mind wonder back to her long, raven locks.

He grabbed the glass. Another one down.

The strong flavor of the grape juice provided the lawman with some sort of solace, even if the beverage contained no alcohol. It helped, in a way, to keep his mind off her.

But it was starting to fail at that, too.

He slumped his shoulders and just stared at the glass in hand, realizing that he had lost, once again, and the man relented, allowing his mind to once again take a fly of fancy, losing himself amidst the memory of her deep, emerald orbs, swimming in those profound pools of the most wonderful color...

Stop it. This isn't you, Miles Edgeworth. You're not some love-crazed buffoon that feels the necessity to describe how he feels to himself in an internal monologue, using a lexicon that cound only be described as "sappy". In any case, you most definitely care about her, but that's only natural. She, after all, experienced a loss similar to yours during her childhood.

And that's why you definitely can't "love" her. You were about to start your career as a professional when you met her... And she was but ten years old. Just thinking about being attracted to her is sick and repulsive! It's most definitely twisted, to even have the faintest sense of longing for Kay Faraday. Even if she's no longer a child, but a woman now.

It did not change the fact that he felt like a criminal. Even if nobody were to know, he couldn't shake off the notion that he was dangerously close to being a closet pedophile, at least, in the terms of his own moral compass.

And yet...whenever Kay was around, usually aiding him with a case, he couldn't help but feel serene. Not the usual neutral tranquility the prosecutor was used to, no, but rather, a soft warmth that made the prosecutor relax his otherwise overtly tense muscles, and actually break into small smiles every once in a while that weren't the aggressive grins he sported when besting a foe's train of logic.

Miles Edgeworth would never admit it to anybody, but Kay Faraday most definitely caused a crack in his otherwise stone-hard façade.

Perhaps it was natural, really, what with the similar circumstances they share; both lost their beloved fathers at a tender age, yet, while he became cold and aloof to almost everybody, she never lost her spunk and lived in a way that would make her dearly departed parent proud. He admired her own personal brand of strength.

He poured the last of the remaining juice in the bottle Wright had given him when they met each other last night in Wright's workplace...Borscht, was it? Wright mentioned something about it being able to help with what was troubling him. Could the ex-defense attorney read him like an open book? It was almost scary, how sharp Wright became after his disbarment. Edgeworth would feel nostalgic and reminisce about his days facing against Phoenix Wright in the courtroom, had his mind not been busy trying to convince himself that no, he felt no type of romantic attachment to Kay. Too bad his mind was doing a terrible job at it. Logic wasn't going to help him here.

Edgeworth sighed. When did he start finding himself in this dilemma? She has been a common constant in his life for five years now, after they met again in Gatewater Land during the whole incident with the smuggling ring. So, when did this internal conflict begin? He can't even remember anymore. After all, Miles Edgeworth is a man who used to never stop to think of his emotions. He was too busy for that. However, Kay had invaded his thoughts for as long as he could recall. He was able to brush it off at first, but not anymore.

But of course, Miles Edgeworth actually enjoyed this internal strife of his. He was just too proud to admit it to himself. He secretly felt glad that he was actually capable of, possibly and quite hypothetically, loving someone in a way he never imagined he could. It was all foreign to him, and the experience mystified him.

Even if it was sick, so sick, to feel this way.

His musings were interrupted by a soft knock on the mahogany door to his office, followed by the sound of the turning doorknob.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey, Edgey!" She grinned from ear to ear, carrying on her hands a binder. "I got you the files you asked me to fetch for you!"

One of those small, fleeting smiles that would've been quite the rare sight under normal circumstances crossed Edgeworth's lips. "Why, thank you Kay. I'll look through these later. After all, I only needed them as review material." His young assistant placed the documents in front of him, on top of the other end of his desk.

Since when had she stopped calling him "Mr. Edgeworth" and began to refer to him as "Edgey"? It had been quite a while now, hadn't it? But he was not bothered by this in the slightest. After all, when she said it, it was...strangely endearing.

She sat on the couch against the wall, and with her gaze fixed on him, she spoke: "So what are you up to right now?" She was, undoubtedly, curious as to the filled glass he held in hand.

"Ah...I was just...thinking." The prosecutor responded, casting his gaze downwards once again, diverting it towards the beverage.

"Hmm? About what? Oh, don't tell me..." A mischievous glint flickered in her eye. "...you were thinking about women, weren't you?"

"Hmph." Edgeworth smirked, attempting to hide the fact he was wondering if the passage of time had somehow made him easily readable to the people around him.

"I was just kidding, 'kay?" The Great Thief grinned sheepishly, pulling at her scarf. Her taste in clothing hadn't changed too much over the years; she still wore the same key in her hair and the scarf with the crest of the Yatagarasu around her neck, but aside from those two items that were on her personage almost religiously, she tended to wear different ensembles, albeit these more often than not came in the fuchsia, pink and blue colors that fit her so much.

This time, however, she was wearing the same clothing she did when they had first met. Edgeworth couldn't help but notice how different they seemed though, as her shapely figure filled the garments quite unlike five years ago…

He promptly mentally kicked himself for letting such a thought cross his mind. How unlike him. It's unbecoming of a gentleman to give place to such thoughts.

"So, Kay, how about you? How come I haven't heard anything about any boyfriends yet?"

Kay couldn't help but chuckle. "Miles Edgeworth, talking about relationships? I never thought I'd see the day!"

He pondered for a moment whether it was out of character for him to ask something like that out loud. Still, he was curious…

"Well…I haven't really been found anybody I'd actually wish to date with, much less start a relationship with, y'know?" There was a slight pink tinge on her cheeks. She stopped looking at the prosecutor, directing her gaze towards the bookshelves on the opposite end of the room, before speaking again.

"Actually… there is someone."

Edgeworth's heart started to beat faster. Once again, his features betrayed the truth within him. Another thing to add to the list of things he wishes to not acknowledge: he was feeling very, very nervous at that moment.

"He's…a very serious guy who's always absorbed in his work, but… " she nervously rubs her forearm "…even if he seems cold and distant to you at first, he's actually a very caring person, who's always looking out for you."

Wait, does she mean…?

"What I'm trying to say h-here is…" she turned her head towards Edgeworth, her face beet red, their eyes locking onto the others, when time seemed to stop at that split second. "I-I love you, Edgey!"

The Thief of Truth had successfully stolen his breath away.

He just kept looking at her, feeling his face grow hot, unable to even come up with words to respond. He felt warm. So warm. So unlike ever before.

Silence permeated the office. Kay broke eye contact.

"Eheheh…guess I…should be going now, then? S-Sorry to say such a thing. Hope it doesn't…make things too awkward between us, y'know…?" She started shuffling towards the door, biting back bitter tears of rejection. She knew he wouldn't feel the same way, and she had finally mustered the courage to tell him, so why? Why did she felt so heartbroken at this foregone conclusion? Maybe, she had hope. Even if it was just a little.

Her advance was stopped by a large, strong hand softly clasping her wrist. "Kay, wait, please."

She turned to face him, unshed tears glittering in her eyes.

"When you came in here, and you asked me if I was thinking about women, you…were right, in a way." It was Edgeworth's turn to rotate his neck and stare at the bookshelf, averting his gaze from Kay's orbs.

"I..I was?"

"Yes…" he turned his face towards Kay, cupping her chin on his free hand. "I was…thinking about you."

He leaned in, and so did she. Their lips met for a first fluttery, feathery kiss.

Miles Edgeworth felt like a sick man. And he enjoyed it.

Being lovesick… was wonderful.


End file.
